Slow Dancing in a Burning Room
by racefh853629
Summary: Oneshot, post-Personal Foul. Danny does some reflecting. DL angst.


A/N: Okay, so I was listening to the song that is the story title, and the more I read it, the more I saw Danny and Lindsay, so here we are. I don't own them, any other known entity, CSI:NY, CBS, or even the song from which the title comes. I hope you guys enjoy the story, and please review. :)

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Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

He sighed, twisting his head front to back and side to side, trying to relieve the tension in his neck. It failed, as did all his other methods of comforting himself. He sighed painfully, closing his eyes and letting his head fall to where his chin could touch his chest. He stayed that way for a minute, listening to the rain pound down on the windows of his apartment as he tried to gather his thoughts.

Ever since she arrived, they danced the slow dance of love and torture. The last time the two of them seemed to be on the same page was two years ago, when she invited him to go watch Mac at the club. Since then, it seemed like they were never quite together.

First, there were the flashbacks and the trial in Bozeman. She couldn't concentrate on anything. She was worried about her testimony, seeing the faces of the victims and their mothers, and seeing the guy who killed them. She was afraid, and all he could do was watch as she refused to let him in.

When he went out there to support her, she was grateful, which may have helped their cause a little. For a few weeks, they were happy and together. They were friends who were hanging out, feeling their feelings, and trying to find whether or not to act on them.

Shortly after was when the tango heated up. After the first time they got drunk and slept together, it was one long waltz of emotions. Some days they were together and completely in love. Other days, they were nothing more than best friends and co-workers. The long, slow dance turned more beautiful after a little while, with sweet nothings, flowers, cards, candy, and dinners. But after Ruben died, things changed.

Danny wasn't completely sure what inside him had snapped the day Ruben died, but he had a good idea. In the eyes of his family, he was a failure. Despite the fact that he was a stand up, dependable guy and a decent human being, his family loathed him. He had been shunned by his older brother, the guy he looked up to more than anything, for years until the day Louie needed money. And even then, all Danny was to Louie was an ATM machine.

His parents weren't openly harboring ill will against him, but Danny knew that his father wasn't a fan of the line of work Danny chose to be in. There was a lot of tension between the founding and youngest members of the Messer clan, but it was something that he didn't care about.

Ruben, though. Ruben was his little buddy. He adored the kid, and would do almost anything for him and his mother, Rikki. When Ruben died, it was like part of him died also. The part that was happy. After Ruben died, he hurt all the time. He felt guilty beyond belief. If he didn't make Ruben go on ahead, maybe, just maybe, Ruben would still be alive. Maybe none of this would've ever happened had he been more careful.

All those maybes still hounded him to this day, and they made him distance himself from Lindsay. With all of the internal struggles Danny was facing, he couldn't deal with this dance of destruction at the same time. So he pushed Lindsay aside, and she resented him for it.

She was at the point where she was barely talking to him beyond what was needed for the case. Which, he supposed he deserved, but he wasn't sure. He didn't know if she had every right to be upset, or if she had no right, but it didn't really matter anyway. She was upset, and that bothered him.

He hated hurting people. He always had. He would rather die than cause someone pain. He took whatever measures he could to avoid causing others pain. He also took desperate measures to make people happy.

Which was where sleeping with Rikki had come in. both of them knew it was a bad idea. He was in a relationship (something Rikki didn't know), and she was grieving the death of her son. No matter how many times he was told otherwise, he still felt responsible for his death.

He stood up from the stool in his kitchen, having drank some liquid strength before his phone call with Lindsay, and walked over to the couch. He lay down, staring out the windows as the rain continued to pound the pavement outside. He sighed deeply, pain washing over him as harshly as the rain fell outside.

It was times like this when he couldn't help but feel like the world would be much better off without him. He was in a deep, dark hole, and he didn't know whether or not any light would ever come to him. In these moments, he closed his eyes and prepared himself to do something he normally didn't do. He picked up his phone and dialed the most familiar number, the one that got him through most anything.

When the groggy voice answered on the other end of the line, he heaved a deep sigh. "Don?" he asked desperately.

The End.


End file.
